


Selfie

by NotEvenCloseToStraight



Series: Good Omens [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Romance, Selfies, So Super Soft, Tooth Rotting Fluff, ineffable husbands, short and sweet, taking pictures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 22:49:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21346054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenCloseToStraight/pseuds/NotEvenCloseToStraight
Summary: “You haven’t got any pictures?” Crowley said in disbelief. “Not a single one?”“I’m not like you, Crowley.” the angel sniffed. “There’s pictures of you everywhere, I found one in a book just the other day, you modeling clothes in the 1890’s! I didn’t do that sort of thing! And there’s always the risk that my true form will show in film and wouldn’t that be horrifying? And besides–”Another little sniff. “–besides, I don’t have anyone to take pictures with. I don’t want a bunch of pictures of just me, I never understood the point of a selfie with no one else in it. Pictures are meant to look back fondly on fun times and I–I-” he shook his head and picked up his tea. “Let’s change the subject.”The angel prattled on for a few minutes about a new, very old book he’d found but Crowley kept staring at his angel in shock, his mind stuck on the phrase “I don’t have anyone to take pictures with”.Six thousand years he’d known his angel and Aziraphale thought he didn’t have anyone to take pictures with?Oh no no no, that was going to be rectified immediately.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1399435
Comments: 24
Kudos: 467





	Selfie

“Angel?” Crowley poked his head out from behind a stack of books, holding up a picture frame. “Who’s this in the picture?”

“Hm?” Aziraphale was arranging their afternoon tea, adding in the sugar Crowley liked and a dollop of honey in his own. “Oh, I don’t know who that is. I suppose just the generic model that comes in picture frames. Handsome though, aren’t they?”

”…what?“ Crowley came over for his tea, still holding the picture. "Why did you keep the picture of the model?”

"Cos I liked the frame and it seemed silly to have an empty picture frame sitting around.” Azira nibbled his way around one of his favorite biscuits. “Silly and perhaps a little depressing. Empty picture frames. Why not leave the picture of the model there? They are already smiling, seems a shame to waste such a lovely smile simply because it’s a stock photo.” 

"Why don’t you put a _different _picture in there?” Behind his glasses, Crowley narrowed his eyes, suddenly sure his angel was hiding something from him. “Or do that thing where housewives hang empty frames on pretty walls for the um– What do they call it? The aesthetic? Why don’t you do _that_?”

“Because there isn’t a spare inch of wall in my bookshop that doesn’t have a bookshelf.” Aziraphale replied calmly. “Why would I ask the books to move simply to hang something _empty_? Now then, should we talk about–”

“No.” The demon interrupted, ignoring his tea and the frankly adorable way Azira talked about _asking _the books to do things in favor of leaning across the table and pinning his angel with a _look_. “Angel. Why don’t you have pictures in your picture frames?”

Azira tugged at his coat in a nervous gesture. “Well it’s just that I– I haven’t got any.”

“You haven’t _got _any?” Crowley said in disbelief. “You don’t have any pictures? Not a single one?” 

“I’m not like you, Crowley.” the angel sniffed. “I haven’t spent six thousand years at the forefront of human social circles and keeping up with technology and trends! There’s pictures of _you _everywhere, I found one in a book just the other day as a model for clothes in the 1890’s! I didn’t do that sort of thing! And there’s the risk that my true form will show in film and wouldn’t that be horrifying? And besides–”

Another little sniff as Azira picked a different biscuit. “–besides, I don’t have anyone to take pictures _with_. I don’t want a bunch of pictures of just me, I never understood the point of a selfie with no one else in it. Pictures are meant to look back fondly on fun times and I–I-” he shook his head and picked up his tea. “Let’s change the subject.”

The angel prattled on for a few minutes about a new– or rather, very very _old_– book he’d acquired for the shop but Crowley kept staring at his angel in shock, his mind stuck on the phrase “_I don’t have anyone to take pictures with_”.

Six thousand years he’d known his angel and Aziraphale thought he didn’t have anyone to take pictures with?

Oh no no no, that was going to be rectified _immediately_.

************

“Smile, angel.” Crowley pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of them as they sat down at their usual table at the Ritz, catching his angel off guard.

“Oh– that was– why are you–” 

“Hey you.” Crowley snapped his fingers at the waiter. “Take a picture of us and make it a good one.” 

"Smile!” the waiter prompted and Azira gave him a beatific smile for a second, then turned back to Crowley to hiss– “What are you _doing_?”

“Getting a picture.” Crowley said calmly, taking his phone back and tucking it away. “Now then, are you having your usual?”

“…always.” Aziraphale said slowly, suspiciously. “Thank you.”

A few days later as they walked through the park, Crowley tossed his phone to a teenager and ordered them to, “Take a few pictures of us by the water.” while his Angel burst into surprised laughter when Crowley produced a bag of corn and peas to feed the ducks with.

“I thought you hated these things! Why are we feeding the ducks!” 

"Just shut up and feed the pretty birds, angel.” Crowley peeked up for just a moment to make sure the kid was taking an appropriate amount of pictures, and went back to tossing bits at the ducks and watching Aziraphale grin in unabashed delight.

_Lovely_. Crowley thought, and couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed when goose down landed on his shoes. His angel was _lovely _and deserved all the pictures, so Crowley was going to make sure he got them.” 

There was a selfie later that week as they ate ice cream, an unwitting stranger looped into snapping a few pictures when they dressed up for the theater, and a rather surprisingly sweet one Crowley took as they were waking up together, Azira’s curls all over the place and the demons own hair sticking up wildly across the pillows.

After the first few pictures, the angel stopped asking questions and simply smiled whenever prompted. Perhaps he even went out of his way to be wearing a particularly flattering vest or perhaps a new bow tie so he could look his best if Crowley wanted an impromptu snap shot. 

He assumed the picture taking was a new one of Crowley’s hyper fixations and it would pass with time, but then one day several weeks later Aziraphale unlocked the doors to his bookshop, walked in–

–and stopped in his tracks.

Every one of the beautiful frames he’d purchased over the years were filled with pictures, the stock photos tossed away in exchange for picture after picture of he and Crowley.

They were hanging on the wall and stuffed into the crevices of book shelves, lining the fireplace mantle and crammed onto his desk. Everywhere he turned there was a picture of he and Crowley smiling or having fun or eating lunch or laughing or at least _Azira _was laughing while Crowley looked over at him with adoring eyes.

“There you are, angel.” Crowley spoke from behind him and the angel jumped in surprise. “Now you have pictures. How do you like it? Better than stock photos, don’t you think?” 

"Oh. Oh I–” Aziraphale’s eyes filled with tears and Crowley grumbled something both exasperated and comforting as he wiped them away. “Thank you, my love. This is–this is–”

“One more.” Crowley produced a brand new frame from behind his back and set it on the desk, holding up his phone and leaning close. “Selfie proof that I give the best gifts, ready? One two three–”

Azira grabbed at his love and crushed a kiss onto the demon’s lips just as the shutter clicked and Crowley made the sort of delighted noise he only made very rarely, wrapped a long arm around Azira’s waist and hauled him closer while the phone kept clicking away.

They ended up with no less than three dozen pictures of them kissing, and Aziraphale hung the best one in the new frame and set it up by his bedside so he could see it every day.

“Thank you.” he whispered that night as they went to bed and Crowley only smiled.

Hell had given him all _sorts _of credit for inventing the selfie, citing it as a breakthrough advantage in the sins of pride and vanity, definitely a step forward in jealousy and they could even tack gluttony and greed on as well since nothing spurred humankind to greater heights of _want want want_ as seeing whatever someone else had. 

Crowley had received all sorts of credit for introducing the selfie to the world. 

It was no one’s business if he was using it to make his angel happy. 


End file.
